


Every Time I See a Cash Machine It Reminds Me of You

by TheGreatCatsby



Category: All New X-Factor, Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Angst, Blood, M/M, quickbit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-17
Updated: 2015-01-17
Packaged: 2018-03-07 22:57:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3186389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGreatCatsby/pseuds/TheGreatCatsby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was a line at the corner store and Remy thought, it'd be so much faster if I just stole what I wanted and got out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Every Time I See a Cash Machine It Reminds Me of You

**Author's Note:**

> So this is just a sad fic really. I don't know why. Maybe it has something to do with break being over. Anyway, enjoy!

There was a line at the corner store and Remy thought, it'd be so much faster if I just stole what I wanted and got out. 

So he did. 

It wasn't that he hated wasting time. Just that he hated lines. And he was, after all, one of the top thieves in the world, even if he'd sworn up and down to everyone who asked that he'd packed it in. Why shouldn't he put his skills to use every once in awhile? 

*

“I am not going to help you steal anything, no matter how much you need it, or how amazing it is, or because you're bored--”

“What if I told you we were gonna steal something of Doom's?” 

“...You have my attention.” 

*

The good thing about being with the X-Men again was that despite also being mutants, they weren't connected to X-Factor. Remy could pretend like X-Factor never happened and that he'd stayed with the X-Men and hadn't gotten bored of teaching and tried to steal from the Avengers. That Wolverine hadn't told him off and that Lorna hadn't offered him a job. That he'd never gotten to know Pietro Maximoff beyond the cursory glance and quick “Oh, that's Quicksilver” recognition. 

When he got back to the mansion he expected Wolverine to appear, glaring at him and asking him what he'd spent the day doing, not even bothering to conceal his suspicion. 

Then he remembered that Wolverine was dead, and the person who greeted him was Emma Frost. She gave him a thin smile and said, “I'm tempted not to let you out of the mansion without supervision.” 

“Get outta my head,” Remy grumbled, pushing past her up the stairs. 

He got to his room and sat on his bed. He hadn't been forced to teach anyone yet and he was glad. He'd never been much of a teacher. 

He dumped the snacks he'd stolen on the bed and tossed his jacket onto a nearby chair. Emma's condescending voice echoed in his head. 

He needed to burn off steam. Luckily, the mansion had a danger room. 

*

“The key ta a successful thieving mission is--”

“--speed.” 

“No. Subtlety.” 

“You? Subtle?” 

“Listen, I'm King of the Thieves' Guild.” 

“Must not be that difficult, then.” 

Remy moved forward and kissed the arrogant smirk off Pietro's face. 

*

The other good thing about the mansion was that the kitchens were well-stocked. Not that Serval's hadn't been, but the X-Men's kitchen was bigger. He made a beeline for the freezer, whipped it open, grabbed the first tub of ice cream he saw (Rocky Road) and spun around to look for a spoon. 

Lorna was sitting at the counter, watching him. 

“Lorna!” Remy placed the tub on the counter and turned to find a bowl. “Didn't know you'd be stopping by.” 

“Don't bother,” Lorna said. “I don't live here.” 

Remy sighed and grabbed a spoon, then sat opposite her and dug straight into the tub. “What's up? Everything okay?” 

“Not really,” Lorna said, “but there's not much that can be done about that. I wanted to see how you were doing, actually.” 

“Fine,” Remy said, holding up a spoon loaded with ice cream. “Just got back from a danger room session. I'm not teaching but I'm going on missions and--”

“It isn't boring?” Lorna asked. “I know how much you needed a change of pace.” 

“It was good while it lasted,” Remy said, trying not to think too hard about the past few months, “but if I can't learn ta settle down...” He shrugged. Lorna nodded. “You sure you're alright? You can stay here if you want.” 

“I need time off,” Lorna said, running a hand through her green hair. The gesture made Remy's throat close around the mouthful he'd been swallowing. Pietro had always carded his hand through his hair in the exactly same way when he was upset, or stressed, or frustrated. 

“Well, I can always come around if you want,” Remy said. He half hoped she'd say that he could. Half hoped she wouldn't so that he could pretend once again that he hadn't been on a team with her. 

“You don't need to waste your time on me,” Lorna said. 

Remy leaned forward, dropping his spoon on the counter. “It wouldn't be a waste, Lorna.” 

Lorna pushed herself away from the counter and stood. “Maybe next week we can get coffee?” 

“That's be great,” Remy said. Lorna nodded and walked out of the room. 

*

“This could become a thing, you know. You're an asset.” 

“A useless confirmation of what I already knew.” 

“I'm serious though.” 

“So am I. And I'm only doing this because Doom is a terrible person. I'm not starting a-a thieving partnership with you.” 

“It'd be fun.” 

“It's illegal.” 

“And?” 

“And unlike you I'm trying to be a better person.” 

“So am I. This'd just be a once in awhile thing. Like vacations.” 

“Stop talking.” 

“I get it. One thing at a time.” 

*  
He didn't eat the food he'd stolen. The ice cream had been enough. He just smoked while lying in his bed even though he wasn't supposed to, probably to spite Emma. Most likely because he didn't feel like going outside. 

It took him a few hours to fall asleep. 

*  
“Piece of cake,” Remy said. “Speaking of which, I'm gonna make a celebratory dessert when we get back.” 

“Congratulations,” Pietro muttered, rolling his eyes. “You truly are a talented criminal. Never mind that we managed to get past his security because of my speed.” He examined his gloved hand. “How you function without me, I have no idea.” 

“Excuse you,” Remy said. “Who bothered ta research the layout of Doom's lair?” 

“Are we finished here?” 

Remy glanced around the room, full of countless inventions that he couldn't even begin to understand. Most of them blended magic and science. Remy wasn't a magic person. “Fine,” he said. “Let's get--” 

“ARGH!” 

Pietro jerked forward, and something metal burst from his chest. He fell, revealing Doom behind him, shaking blood from his hand. “Leave,” he said. 

Remy's voice caught in his throat. Pietro had fallen forward on his knees, head touching the floor. But Remy could see the gaping wound in his back, and the blood spreading around him on the floor. He shouted and grabbed the nearest object, not caring what it was. He charged it and threw it at Doom. 

It exploded, the first time from impact and from Remy's energy, and the second time from the device itself being destroyed. The second explosion resulted in a burst of flames consuming Doom, then suddenly extinguishing themselves, like a flash fire. The only thing left was twisted metal. 

It had been a Doombot. 

“Leave now,” Doom's voice seemed to fill the room. “And I may spare your life.” 

Remy lurched forward and fell to his knees in front of Pietro. The other man didn't respond. Remy pulled him up and saw that Pietro's skin had gone bone-white. Blood ran from his mouth, but the strangest thing was that he looked confused. 

“We're getting out of here, chere,” Remy muttered. “Hang on.” He pressed a quick kiss to Pietro's lips, ignoring how blood coated his own, and picked him up. And then he ran. Not fast, not for Pietro, but fast for him. He ran until he couldn't see Doom's castle anymore. He dropped in a forest, setting Pietro down gently. 

Pietro had been their ride to the nearest air strip. 

“You're allowed ta say 'I told you so,'” Remy gasped. “It was a stupid idea. Our next date I'll cook you dinner.” 

Pietro didn't respond. Remy looked at him, lying on his back, a hole in his torso and for once in his life completely still. 

“Pietro?” 

For once, Pietro didn't say a word.


End file.
